


A Guide To Lead Me Home

by DixieDale



Series: The Enchanted Forest [4]
Category: Hogan's Heroes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-10
Updated: 2019-01-10
Packaged: 2019-10-07 21:27:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17373602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DixieDale/pseuds/DixieDale
Summary: He was being hunted by a ruthless enemy.  He was so very confused, so very, very lost.  Who will guide our hero home?  And who will protect him on his journey through the enchanted forest?





	A Guide To Lead Me Home

"Pierre, I will need these things. You will obtain them for me, yes?" came the not-quite-a-request from their French barracks mate. Well, that wasn't such an unusual thing. The pale, wan look on LeBeau's face was more so. He still hadn't fully recovered from his recent misadventure, a misadventure that had led him to being away from the camp for two whole days, during which it had been challenging, to say the least, to keep Klink from finding out he was missing.

Not so unusual either was the slanted look, the suspiciously uttered, "and just w'at do you intend to be doing with them, Louie? Making another of your French messes? Don't know why you just can't cook something . . . ".

"Hush, Pierre. No, it is not French, well, not so much, though perhaps it originated there, the Franzbrotchen I will make, and it wouldn't matter if it was, because it is not for you anyway."

For someone who was so annoyed by French cooking, it was amusing to see how disgruntled a look that statement brought.

"Oh, it aint, now is it? And just who might it be for, if I might ask, if it aint for your ole mate Newkirk? Can't be for ole Schultzie; don't need anything from 'im right now, and sides, when we do, you know it's that bloody apfel strudel that lures 'im in, every time."

"No, it is not for Schultz." LeBeau seemed a little reluctant to say anything more, but then changed his mind suddenly.

"It is for Corporal Langenscheidt. I have heard him say that his grandmere made it for him as a special treat which he was a small child, and I wish to make it for him as well."

A disbelieving, almost incredulous look came over Newkirk's face, and looks of extreme interest to the others in the Barracks - Kinch, Carter and Olsen. 

"Karl? Why?" If anyone noticed anything unusual about Olsen using Corporal Langenscheidt's first name, no one said anything.

"In appreciation for his stories, mes ami, especially the one he told of the enchanted forest not so long ago. I found it tres instructif, most . . . interesting, most educational. Yes, very much so."

The men exchanged a long look. LeBeau hated cooking for the Germans, even Schultz, only did it on command, usually when they needed something or there simply wasn't any other choice. This, a voluntary food offering, that just wasn't normal for the little Frenchman.

"Alright, Louie, spill. Yes, alright, I'll find everything on your bloody list, though w'ere I 'aven't a clue, especially the raisins and the orange peel, there's a bloody war on, you know, but you gotta tell us the w'ole story."

LeBeau looked around at them, four good friends.

"Where is Colonel Hogan?" Hogan wouldn't like what he had to say, would probably give him a stern talking to if he heard, but perhaps LeBeau's story would be of some benefit to his friends. After all, Langenscheidt's story had been of much benefit to HIM.

"Off making nice with the Kommandant, playing chess or patty-cake or pin-the-tail-on-the-reichsmarchall or whatever; likely gone for the afternoon, least if the schnapps 'olds out."

LeBeau poured himself a cup of almost-coffee, sat down at the long table and sighed. 

"It was like this, mes ami . . .

"That little job, last month, the one I almost did not return from, it all starts there. The meeting with the Underground went well enough, Rene promising to obtain the information le Colonel needed about the Wehrmacht establishment at Manteuffel Kaserne near Bad Kissingen. There were patrols in the streets when I left the restaurant where Rene and I had met, so I ducked into the bierhalle around the corner to wait til they finished whatever they were doing."

"There was a girl," waiting for the expected groan of acknowledgement from each of this barracks mates before he continued, "a very pretty girl, with strawberry blond hair and blue eyes and a smile, oh, that smile! I bought her a drink and we talked, and she said she wished to introduce me to her brother. I would have preferred not, you understand, brothers being what they are, but there he was, and we talked and he seemed friendly enough. I could no longer see the soldiers in the streets and I made my farewells and started to get up and I was dizzy and almost fell."

"When I got my bearings, I was in a car and we were moving, and I could hear them talking. They had spotted me and Rene, her brother could read lips and had discovered enough to know we were plotting something. The girl, Olga, she had already telephoned the Gestapo in Dusseldorf to tell them they had captured a member of the Underground, for that is who they thought I was, and were bringing me in. They were much excited at what the Gestapo had promised them in return; she mentioned Major Hochstetter's name in particular."

That got grim looks from his listeners. Well, the Gestapo Major didn't have any friends in the room, to be sure.

"They thought me still unconscious, and did not know any different until I got the rear door open and thrust myself out of the moving car. I rolled until I landed up against a tree, and then I managed to get to my feet and crawl into the underbrush. The car came back and stopped, lights glaring, but they were in the wrong spot and they didn't find my tracks, not then. I crawled back and back, and then I was in the forest, the one Langenscheidt tells such fanciful stories about."

"I could hear them coming, could see their flashlights searching here and there. I knew I could not let them find me, for if I was taken to Dusseldorf and Major Hochstetter, he would recognize me for certain, and that would lead him back here to the camp, to you and the others."

He paused to sip from his cup, then raised his head to give them an odd little smile.

"That is where the stories from Corporal Langenscheidt come into play. I was not thinking so clearly, you understand, between the drink and the drug they had slipped into my drink, and the tumble from the moving car, but those stories I remembered quite clearly. The one about the magic pool and the Rhine-maiden that lives there. And about the animals that seem to understand human speech, at least when they wish to. And the one about the pathway, the one that can become what you need it to be, can lead where you need it to lead, if you believe strongly enough, are willing to ask with respect, that one I remembered most of all."

LeBeau seemed to become lost in his own thoughts, staring into the air, sipping at that not-quite-coffee. In truth, he was wondering just how much to tell them, how much he COULD tell them without them thinking he'd gone mad. Still, the day might come when they found themselves inside that place, alone and needing help; to know something of it would not be amiss, surely. Perhaps his story would cause them to think, perhaps to pay more attention to the ones Langenscheidt told. He, for one, was certain he would not have survived had he not listened to those stories.

They looked at each other, those team mates of his, trying to figure out if he was setting them up. LeBeau had been been accepting of some of Langenscheidt's stories, especially after that incident at the castle, but this seemed, well, an uncomfortable story for LeBeau to be telling. Although, they remembered his original report had been remarkably brief, somewhat along the lines of "I was captured by a pair of civilians, I got away, no, they couldn't identify me, the operation is in no danger."

{"Well, maybe it AINT too comfortable for 'im to be telling; aint like it's all that comfortable for us to be 'earing either. Coo, coulda been any of us, well, except for Kinch or Olsen, at least the getting set up, getting caught like that. Been there myself a time or two. All three of us others 'ave met with Rene, and not just 'im. The more 'ochstetter and 'is lot go chasing after Papa Bear, the more we 'ave to 'andle the up close stuff. Well, except w'ere there's a beautiful lady concerned, then 'e manages to 'andle that 'is own self."}

Andrew Carter was getting an odd feeling of his own. Anything to do with the forest, the one Langenscheidt kept referring to as 'the enchanted forest', made him nervous. He'd been there a lot, gathering mushrooms and nuts, sometimes passing through on the way to or from a job (though he tried to avoid that if possible - time seemed to work a little funny in there). Not that he thought the Corporal was necessary wrong about that, about it being enchanted and stuff; it's just he figured they all had more than enough to deal with, what with the camp and the war and the Gestapo and the jobs and the Travelers' Aid Society and everything. Magic and enchantment and all that, well, that just added another layer of complexity to a situation that was already pretty much out of control as far as he saw it. And that pond? That was just one weird place!

Olsen was trying to keep his face from revealing anything out of the ordinary. He spent a heck of a lot of time in and around that forest, and to tell the truth, it had always made him just a little uncomfortable. There were too many things that just seemed a little off, too many times he felt the trees themselves were watching him, listening to him. 

And there was that pond, the one that seemed to send back your reflection clearly enough, but then it would shift and change and change again, til it was you, but it WASN'T you, all at the same time, and frankly, that just freaked him out. He tried to avoid the place, but somehow he kept ending up back there, looking at those reflections upon reflections, trying to identify himself in all he was seeing.

And time? How many times had he taken a path to the other side, KNOWING full well it should take him about twenty minutes or an hour or whatever, only to come out the other side and finding he'd been way wrong about it. Spooky, that's what it was.

And any mention of Karl Langenscheidt made him nervous; he was walking a very dangerous road there, and he knew it. Sooner or later it was all going to hit the fan, Karl would find out who he really was, WHAT he really was. But every single time he decided to call it quits, there would be a memory of some little bit of conversation, a particular look or smile, or a shared confidence, and he'd decide to put it off just a little while longer. He kept getting the feeling the forest preferred it that way.

Kinch just thought they were all taking Langenscheidt and his stories a hell of a lot more seriously than they should, especially if it was causing LeBeau to start imaginging stuff. Hogan had told him how spooked they'd been on that job up at the castle; he never DID get the impression they agreed with the Colonel's take on the situation, that the gas being released from below the castle had given them one hell of a good dose of hallucinations. Well, they'd pretty well admitted that, and as nervous as that made Hogan, it didn't make Kinch feel any easier. Hell, they all depended on these guys keeping it together, and them starting to believe in things like flying snakes and talking skeletons didn't increase his confidence level one little bit. And, frankly, some of the stories Langenscheidt told had been responsible for some valuable nights' sleep being lost to nightmares, since it was pretty much impossible to have a rip-roaring nightmare in the barracks without it affecting everyone within earshot.

Finally, LeBeau shook his head and realized considerable time must have passed, since he uttered a sheepish half-smile, and a hesitant "I am sorry. Where was I? Ah, yes. I had crawled to the top of a small rise, and lost my balance at the top, rolling down the other, landing on a small well-trodden path at the bottom, in a clearing. To the side I could see a small pond, where the water glistened like a black pearl in the moonlight."

He didn't see Olsen and Carter stiffen with sudden anticipation, though Kinch and Newkirk did, those two exchanging puzzled looks at the sight.

"I crawled along the path and reached the edge of the water. There was little cover there, only a few clumps of tall grasses waving in the quick breeze. I heard them coming, and tried to hid behind the largest of the foliage, but I knew it was of no use. I heard myself in my mind saying over and over again, "I must get back to them, I mustn't be found, please, I must get back or he will discover them. He said there is someone here; Langenscheidt said you could help, if one asked the right favor in the right way. Please, what is the right way? I would ask it that way if I knew!"

"The wind stopped suddenly, it was as if someone had turned a switch, like with a light, you know? It felt as if someone was listening, but I heard no one around."

"I was still huddled close to the ground, and then I saw them in the moonlight, and I knew they could not help but see me. I saw him point, heard him tell her, "look, there, I see him!" They came closer, closer, til they were not more than perhaps five feet away. I could see their faces in the moonlight, looking right at me, and I knew it was all over."

LeBeau had stopped talking, was trembling at the memory, then he blinked and continued.

"She snapped at him, slapped his arm in frustration and said, in great anger, "you fool, can't you see, it's just a large hedgehog. How on earth could you have mistaken it for a man!! Fool! The Major will have our heads if we lose him after reporting we had him firmly in our hands! Hurry!" And they went on, seeming to search here and there, but with me right there in front of them, all the time. Once they came so close I thought they were going to step on me. I heard her say that if they had to, they would come back with equipment and start bulldozing everything in their path until they found me. Finally they went away, and I tried to crawl along the path, but I had no strength left, and fell asleep, there by the water."

"I awoke, and found I had rolled til I was half-in, half-out of the water, and although I was wet, I was warm and comfortable, not cold and chilled as I should have been. I crawled out and started to sit up when a noise came from above, from the top of the hill, and I saw their car, coming over the rise, though there was no road and I would have thought the trees would have blocked it. It kept coming, and I could see them sitting in the front, him behind the wheel, her to the side, staring straight ahead, never turning their heads in one direction or another. I could see their eyes when they got closer, they were wide and panic-stricken, yet they never moved, not even a hair. When the car got to the side of the pond it did not stop, but kept on til it was totally submerged, and there was not even a ripple left. As I watched, the grasses that had been bent down by the weight shivered and stood upright, and all traces of its passing were gone."

Every man in the room felt a cold chill go up their spine at that wide-eyed retelling.

"I slept again, and when nighttime came, I made my way to the pathway and did what Corporal Langenscheidt said was needed. I told it where I needed to be, and asked that it take me there, and that I would be most grateful for its help. I walked along the path for not very long, and then I was within only a few yards of the entrance to the tunnel, and I entered, and - well, you know the rest."

At that moment Hogan entered the room, shivering from the cold outside. "Hey, any coffee left?" He poured himself a cup, grimacing at the taste, and looked at the uncomfortable faces in the room. "Come on, guys. What's up? You're not re-telling some of those scary stories of Langenscheidt's, are you? We don't have a job on tonight, and I for one am looking forward to a decent night's sleep. One WITHOUT listening to any of you yelling about some nonsense he came up with."

"No, Colonel, just shooting the breeze, that's all," came from, of all people, Sergeant Kinchloe. Things were uncomfortable enough, they didn't need the Colonel lecturing them, not right now. As for the nightmares, he hoped he could get that last picture out of his head - that car rolling slowly down the hill, those two figures sitting stiff in the front seat, all disappearing into a black body of water, never to reappear. He swallowed heavily, not too sure that HE wouldn't be the one waking the barracks up with nightmares that night.

One thing he was sure of, he was going to avoid that forest with all his might. Well, he wasn't out there very much, of course, but still . . .


End file.
